


Rings, or Six Times SG-1 Talked About Trees

by Tallulah_Rasa



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Team history, The universe is full of trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:10:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1908774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallulah_Rasa/pseuds/Tallulah_Rasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the years, SG-1 has seen a lot of change -- and a lot of trees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rings, or Six Times SG-1 Talked About Trees

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2008. Just so you know, the last part takes place a few years after -- and references -- the (canon) death of Janet Fraiser.  
> This story is an odd melding of two unrelated things, like that old commercial about the guy with the peanut butter running into the guy with the chocolate and accidentally creating a candy bar. I was thinking about how you can read the history of a tree in its rings, and then I found this quote by Willa Cather: "I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do." I could just hear Daniel and Jack arguing over that, and one thing led to another, and...

**1\. The Lay of the Land**

**(Year One)**

"It's just a _tree_ , Daniel."

Daniel makes his exasperated face. "I _know_ it's a tree, Jack. But I think it's watching us. Well, not watching, exactly. It's… _listening_ to us."

"Trees," Jack says, because he's cold and hungry, and it's a damned _tree,_ "don't _listen_."

Daniel walks carefully around the massive sort-of oak, managing to trip over a huge, gnarled, purple-barked root anyway. "Even if you're right about trees on _Earth_ not listening -- and I'm not saying you are, because there are studies that show--"

"It's a _tree_ ," Jack says, this time more loudly. If the tree _could_ hear, he thinks, it'd be demanding earplugs.

"A tree on P3X-773," Daniel points out, reaching a cautious hand to touch the oddly-smooth, oddly-purplish bark. "Where trees are apparently warm."

"It's warm?" Jack comes closer then, but keeps a good grip on his gun.

"And...breathing.  Or, at least, regularly expanding and contracting as though it had lungs."

And at that Jack put a hand out, too, his rough fingers skimming over the smooth bark, stuttering over the scattered rivulets of sap. "That's...that's not warm, Daniel. And it's definitely not moving."

"Well, no," Daniel says with the smallest of smiles, handing over his bandana so Jack can wipe his sticky hands. "But it _could_ have been. Because this isn't Earth, Jack, and we can't step onto new planets carrying a bunch of Earth-bound assumptions. We have to be open to things as they are, not as we think they're supposed to be."

Jack acknowledges this with a brief glance and a briefer nod: message received. "Well, if this tree _was_ breathing, and listening to you, it would have told you to can it half an hour ago." He shoulders his P-90 and motions Daniel back to the trail.

"No, it wouldn't," Daniel says.

"And pray tell, Dr. Jackson, how do you know _that_?" Jack asks as they trudge deeper into the misty grove of purply trees. He's only half-kidding; Daniel might just know. Daniel seems to relate to everyone -- the Abydonians, a displaced First Prime, a blue crystal. Why not a tree? It's like his native tongue is _everything_.

"Because _that_ tree," Daniel says, perfectly straight-faced, "is a mute."

 

**2\. Color My World**

**(Year Four)**

This is...odd," Jack says, turning around yet again. Lots of trees, like always, but this is anything but _like always_.

"It's beautiful," Daniel breathes, at the same time Sam says, "It's awfully monochrome, isn't it?"

"Indeed," Teal'c says, and Jack isn't sure who Teal'c's agreeing with.

"Monochrome?" Daniel repeats. "Sam, that's -- I'm seeing rainbows, every color, every shade..." He can't tear his eyes from the landscape, isn't even looking at Sam, and Jack knows he has to be seeing something spectacular. It isn't every day Daniel is at a loss for words.

That's when Jack stops turning, and really _looks_. And that's when the grays he's been seeing -- muted, and a limited range, really, even to someone who once managed to decorate a whole house in beige and navy blue -- changes. Morphs into colors, pale at first but then deepening into a glorious range of impossible rainbow shades, as though Daniel's words have the power to change their essential nature. Have the power, even, to make Jack see things that haven't been there before. That _aren't_ there, damn it, that _can't_ be there--

Jack closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens his eyes, he focuses on the sane, sure-edged members of his team, warrior and scientist, understandable and solid and dependable.

"Really?" Sam is asking as she checks the readings on the environmental monitor she's holding, and then checks again. Jack thinks if she were alone she might shake it. "To me, this whole place looks black and white."

Huh, Jack thinks.

"I am perceiving this world in black and white as well," Teal'c reports.

Curiouser and curiouser. Daniel, Jack thinks, would have a field day here, if they were going to spend the day in this field. Which they aren't, seeing as how Jack's internal _let's-get-the-hell-out-of-here_ alarm is blaring. Never mind that he can't explain why; there's definitely a reason. He's a guy who does things for a reason.

"What do you see, O'Neill?" Teal'c is asking, as Daniel begins, "Jack...?"

And another thing he can't explain is the sudden conviction that wild horses, his mother, and a battalion of Jaffa warriors together couldn't make him answer Teal'c's question. If he answers, the question is going to morph -- like these damned trees -- into something else entirely. Like, maybe, why Jack's world-view can be changed by a few words from Daniel, the poster-boy for pretty-damned-flaky even _before_ he watched his wife die, had a thing with the Destroyer of Worlds, and found a supposed-Harcesis stepson.

Jack mostly recognizes what's coiling inside his gut. Fear's nothing new, and neither is the idea that he's going to find newer, bigger things to fear. Jack knows when he stopped being afraid of his own death. He's not sure, though, when he stopped being so afraid of the snakes, and started being afraid of Daniel. And he doesn't want to think about that, not now, not ever. He just wants to defeat the Goa'uld, save the Earth, grill a steak, and watch whatever game is on TV. Is that too much to ask?

"Well, we're seeing things differently," Daniel is saying excitedly. "This is fascinating! Our brain chemistry must be--"

"That's impossible," Sam interrupts, "given that our respective physiologies aren't that different. It's possible there's another influence at work here; maybe an environmental agent affecting your optic nerves or even some sort of drug affecting your suggestibility..."

"That's it, then, people," Jack says. "We're out of here."

"But, Jack," Daniel begins, "this could be -- you have to _see_ that we--"

"No, I don't," Jack says. "We're leaving."

The world snaps back into grays then, muted but not so soothing. Even Daniel looks gray, but Jack turns away from him and resolutely focuses on the path back to the Gate.

 

**3\. Long Day's Journey into another Long Day**

**(Year Five)**

Another day, another mission gone to hell, in a long line of days and missions gone to hell.

They're wandering across another planet, looking for things they aren't going to find, and trying once again to avoid trouble that's undoubtedly going to find them. At the last fork along the dusty, rutted road, Jack had ordered Teal'c and Sam to go left, toward the caves and the signs of civilization. He'd dragged Daniel off to the right. 

Daniel had opened his mouth to say something then, but didn't. He hasn't spoken since. Jack had expected to feel a lot happier about that than he does.

They tramp on, seeing nothing, saying nothing, and finally stop for a break near a stand of trees that look like any other stand of trees on any other planet in any other part of the galaxy.

"Did you ever notice how many worlds we gate to have trees?" Daniel asks as they sink onto the rich-smelling, leaf-strewn ground and open their canteens.

"Yeah," Jack said, taking a long swallow. "I'd noticed."

"The intriguing thing," Daniel begins, but without much enthusiasm, "is how often we--"

"Yeah," Jack says. "Whatever."

"Exactly," Daniel says.

Jack looks at him, then. "What?"

Daniel waves a hand -- gesturing to the world around them, or maybe to the universe. "Yadda," he says.

Jack's inner warning system starts to whine, but Sam has assured him the planet is uninhabited, and since it's not on the Abydos cartouche there's no real chance the Goa'uld are going to show up. Maybe the old alarm is on the fritz, after so many years of constant use. Or maybe... "Daniel," he starts, but Daniel cuts him off.

"Traveler's fatigue," he says, smiling a little.

"Oh," Jack says. "Yeah, maybe. Sometimes one planet does seem a lot like another. Sometimes one _mission_ seems a lot like another." He leans back and closes his eyes, just for a minute.

"Doesn't matter," Daniel says softly. "None of it.  But God, I _wanted_ it to matter."

_What?_

But as Jack bolts up, he hears the roar of an alkesh above, and Sam's voice bursts through the radio, detailing the particulars of another mission gone to hell.

Same old, same old.

He runs out from the stand of trees, shooting.

 

**4\. The Once and Future Something or Other**

**(Year Seven)**

"This is...nice," Daniel says.

They're in Jack's backyard, with burgers on the grill, watching the birds flit in and out of the trees. Jack planted the flowering cherry tree by the fence after that time with the blue crystal, when he finally let Charlie go. Daniel had helped him plant it; had seemed to understand why, though Jack had never explained.

Daniel doesn't remember any of that, now. He's only been back a week or so, though. Janet thinks he still might remember, in time.

"There are some new rose bushes since...last year," Sam says, her voice warm as she tries to fill Daniel in on everything he's missed. "And there's a new tree, over there, in the back. See?"

"The new tree," Teal'c says, "is an oak."

Daniel descending is like a revision; a second draft. Jack thinks he can correct his mistakes this time. He, of all people, knows how precious a second chance is.

He also knows how difficult change can be, and how tired he is.

"The oak," Teal'c says, "is a symbol of strength."

"Oh," Daniel says, his face serious. Jack thinks he must be trying to memorize this new fact -- one in a long line of new facts to be learned. Everything's new to Daniel now. Jack wonders how Daniel will decide what's worth knowing, and what isn't.

"You know the Colonel and trees," Sam laughs. "I guess he planted this one to remind himself of the joys of life off-world."

Daniel turns and looks at Jack. "Trees remind you of other worlds...?"

Not so much a second draft as a fresh start, maybe. "Lots of trees off-world," Jack says with a shrug. It's hard to explain history, especially a history as complicated as theirs.

"You know, I noticed that," Daniel says, and then he grins, brilliant and true. "No, I _remember_ that. Even that planet where I saw everything in a million colors had trees."

"They looked like elms," Jack agrees, grinning back.

"A million colors?" Sam asks doubtfully. "Oh! 982. Where everything was black and white."

"Indeed," Teal'c says.

Daniel nods, unperturbed and still smiling.

"Naw," Jack says. "A million and one colors. And a lot of trees."

Some things are easier the second time around.

 

**5\. Habitual Defenders**

**(Year Eight** **)**

Jack sits at the head of the conference table, which still feels a little weird, with his team -- but not his team, which is always going to feel more than a little weird -- around him.

"We don't have a lot of time here, gang," he starts the debriefing. "What's the four-one-one?"

"The planet showed no evidence of the Goa'uld," Teal'c says.

"No evidence of technology," Sam says. "No weapons, no machinery, no planetary defense system."

"No evidence of civilization," Daniel says. "Some trees," he adds with a small smile, "so we know some things are still constant across the universe. Also no rivers or lakes, so probably no fishing. Sorry, Jack."

"So...next planet?"  Jack looks around the table expectantly.

Sam consults her laptop. "Next is P32-X47."

"Okay," Jack says. "Let's hop to it. Cross the universe, people! I've got a lawn to rake."

Daniel stands up, gathering his papers. "Do you ever think it's weird that we look at the Gate like it's...a bus?" he asks. "Like it's not amazing?"

"Every day," Sam says as they file out.

 

**6\. Seedlings**

**(Year Eleven, or maybe after that)**

Cameron, who's not as thick as he sometimes seems, leads Vala off toward the refreshments, so the rest of them are left sitting on a bench in the weak sunshine. Daniel and Teal'c are in suits; Jack and Sam in dress blues. Jack puts his arm around Cassie, who puts her head on his shoulder. No one says anything for a while, in part because there's nothing to say, and in part because, over the years, they've already said everything that _can_ be said.  They have whole conversations now without ever speaking, and it's been that way for a while. Daniel thinks their experiences, their lives, have fused them, though Sam wonders if maybe something chemical happens when you go through the Gate a certain number of times with the same people. Whatever; even though Jack's gone off to Washington, and the rest of them go off periodically to do what they need to do, they're always together. Location's got nothing to do with it.

Of course, it's different with Janet, who's been gone, really gone, for years now. And it's different for Cassie, who has to use words, out loud, to say what she needs to say.

"It was nice," she says. "The dedication ceremony. Everything. Mom would have liked it. And she would have liked that the whole thing's about life. About living things, I mean."

"The Janet Fraiser Center for Medical Botanical Research at Cheyenne Mountain," Daniel says with pride.

" _Offworld_ medical botanical research," Sam enthuses. "Janet would have loved that."

"Lots of trees in the lab, did you notice?"  Jack says. "They're saplings now, sure, but eventually there's going to be a _forest_ in there. They might have to take the roof off."

"I'm glad," Cassie says, ignoring the by-play, "that they let us plant a tree here on the mountain in Mom's memory.  That was nice idea, Uncle Jack. I like having a tree to come visit, something alive and growing. I never felt Mom at the cemetery, you know?"

"I know," Daniel, Jack and Sam say together, as Teal'c says, "In this I concur, as well."

"Do you...do you think she knows about all of this?" Cassie asks.

"She knows," Daniel says, and everyone looks at him.

"Voice of experience?" Jack asks.

"I haven't been dead _that_ much," Daniel says. "I don't know why you're always acting like--"

"Indeed you have," Teal'c says.

"You really have, Uncle Daniel," Cassie says.

"Statistically, you've been dead far more often than the average SGC employee," Sam chimes in. "You've been dead more than the rest of SG-1, SG-3 and SG-8 combined. I'm surprised you can still get life insurance."

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," Jack says. "Now that I'm dealing with the budget stuff in Washington -- do you know how much your premiums are costing the program?"

"Fine," Daniel says in mock resignation, as he takes off his glasses and carefully polishes the lenses with his tie. "Make fun of the civilian. A guy accidentally dies once or twice--"

"Five times," Sam says.

"Seven," Jack corrects. "That I know of."

"You didn't answer the question," Cassie says quietly.

Daniel puts his glasses on. "She knows, Cass," he says. "I don't know how I know, but I know."

Cassie nods. "Okay."

A strangled shout carries over from the refreshment table -- Vala's either tipped the punch bowl down someone's pants, or tried to get into them -- and Sam, Teal'c, Jack and Daniel exchange a look.

"Another rescue mission, I think," Jack says, standing up. He offers Cassie his arm. She looks around one more time and smiles before she takes it.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Sam says as another yell, decidedly more piercing, echoes over the mountain. "This could be our most dangerous mission yet."

"Maybe I should stay here," Daniel suggests. "You said it yourselves; my track record's not that great. I'll be safer if I stay. And from here, I can watch your backs."

"We go together, Daniel," Jack says in full General mode.

"No one gets left behind," Sam says sternly.

Teal'c looks at Cassie, and then at Daniel. "Move your hindquarters, Daniel Jackson," he says.

"Butt," Daniel corrects as he gets up.

Jack holds up a warning finger. "No buts."

They bicker all the way across the mountain, toward Vala and Cameron, toward whatever's next, watched -- and maybe heard --  by the wind-tossed trees.

END

 


End file.
